The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3)

by Deborah D. Moore

  “Same here, and it smelled like meat cooking, perhaps some of that venison.” I thought for a few moments, driving slowly by the burnt out shell of the Shoreline Treasures building that had succumbed to arson last December.

  I then passed Fram’s store. It was closed, windows boarded over. I had talked with Joe only a week ago and recalled that he was considering moving to his camp deep in the woods to ride out the ash cloud.

  “It’s only a theory, however, it’s possible that when the military truck came back through, they smelled the cooking too and followed the scent to Pete’s. I know it’s a stretch, but I think there was a struggle and they forced Pete and Lenny to go with them back to Marquette. And that whoever was in that truck took the food. It would be like Lenny to leave us a clue like the overturned grill, so we knew they didn’t go willingly,” I said.

  “Let’s run your theory by Eric. He’s the one with the military experience.” Mark looked sullen, worried, and a bit frightened. “I think we need to be very cautious, Allex.”

  “I agree, but I’m not going to let this interfere with our wedding!”

  ~~~

  “Well,” Eric said, his foot propped up on a pillow, and “I think Mom might be right about this, Doc, but I don’t understand it. This isn’t a thing the military would usually do. Why would they force help on someone who is obviously not in need of help? Unless…” he paused while thinking. “Unless it isn’t about helping them. Maybe they looked at Pete and Lenny as being a threat somehow, and they were sent out to eliminate threats.”

  “Now that’s a scary thought,” I said to Eric. “What if they consider anyone not in their control a threat? That would mean rounding everyone up. What threat could a handful of loners be?”

  Jason looked at me and laughed. “Say, Mom, you have a copy of Red Dawn?”

  “Sure, but why…” Thinking about the movie I answered my own question. “Point made, Jason. Thank you. The military— or whoever is really in control— is afraid the lone wolfs might start a rebellion against their power.” I shook my head. “Don’t they and we have enough to worry about without this too??” I stood and started pacing.

  “I suggest we limit outdoor activities for a week or so, let them look around town, see no one else is there and maybe they’ll go away,” Eric said. “We’ll keep the kids inside, or limit their play area. Same for Chivas, she’s still recovering and has adapted well to the grass box. Oh, and have you noticed that she hasn’t barked? I’ve been working with her on that.”

  “Well, weather permitting I still want to have the wedding outside. Other than that, Eric, I agree; we need to keep a low profile until we know what they want.”

  CHAPTER 3

  JOURNAL ENTRY: July 31

  Clouds have moved back in, though they’re high and thin. It looks like a normal summer day, except for the chill in the air.

  *

  “I think it’s time to move the chickens back into their coop,” I told the boys and Mark over our lunch strategy meeting. They had come over, one at a time, practicing some stealth maneuvers Eric was teaching his brother.

  “We can do that, but any reason why?” Jason asked, munching on half of an egg salad sandwich.

  “It’s starting to smell in there,” I said. “And they need more space and fresh air. Speaking of the chickens, I’ve got a dozen eggs I’d like you to take back with you for Amanda to make deviled eggs for the wedding dinner.”

  “Do you want us to mingle the chicks in with the adults? I think they’re big enough now,” Eric said. He’d raised lots of chicks down in Florida so I trust his decision.

  “That would be fine, and it would save us having to figure out a means of separating them. And before anyone asks, I know the roosters are a noise threat, so I think you should butcher them. There are several males in the baby chick batch to replace the breeding stock, so we should be okay.”

  The chickens definitely looked happier out in their yards, scratching and pecking away at the grass that was uncovered by the windstorm that passed through a few days ago. Not enough ash had fallen during the brief downpour to matter.

  While Eric and Jason were instructing Mark on the art of killing and butchering a chicken, I rummaged around in the barn for a box I knew contained some vases. I had seen some wildflowers on the hill that had survived the ash and thought they would be a nice addition to the tables for our celebration in two days. Two days.

  JOURNAL ENTRY: August 1

  Last night we were able to get one channel on the TV for ten minutes. News and weather seem to be considered as one lately, as the death toll comes to light. The loss of life has been horrendous, close to seventy percent of the population. Europe and Asia were largely spared, as the deadly shards hidden in the ash fell quickly and are now gone from the cloud.

  The comment was also made that those above the forty-fifth parallel were spared the worst of the fallout. Spared? If we were spared, with as bad as it was here, it must have been unimaginable elsewhere. I guess we’ve been lucky that the first cloud lasted only a week and not more.

  We will all, though, face a sunless, cold future, for perhaps two years, maybe more, hopefully less.

  CHAPTER 4

  JOURNAL ENTRY: August 2

  The gray and dismal clouds we’ve been having for the past two days moved out before noon and left us with a beautiful blue sky, sunshine and a pleasant seventy-five degrees.

  *

  “Are you getting nervous, Mark?” I asked my intended over a light lunch that he had barely touched.

  “A little,” he replied, pushing his plate aside. “Aren’t you?”

  “Somewhat, yes, although I’m more nervous for the reception than the wedding. I’ve never been surer of a decision than I am about marrying you,” I said with a sincere smile.

  “I think you were born to entertain, Allex,” Mark snorted. “In three days you have put together a party for a dozen people and done most of the cooking, too.”

  “Oh, that’s not true, Mark. Kathy is doing a dish, plus something else she won’t tell me about. Amanda is making several dishes, and Emilee is trying her hand at making mini-sweet rolls for desert,” I reminded him. “I’m left with making the bread rolls and a spaghetti salad. That’s all. That does remind me that I need to do the next step with those rolls or they won’t be done in time.” I set our bowls in the sink full of warm, soapy water after scraping the bread crusts into a bowl for the chickens.

  “While you do that, would you like me to take care of the chickens?” Mark asked, nuzzling the back of my neck.

  Now that the birds were back out in their coop, it was a bit more time consuming to haul water out to them. Having them in the greenhouse for their daily feeding and watering was convenient though it was nice to have the increasing odor away from the house again.

  “That would be wonderful, thank you.” I really did have more things to do. The least of all was to choose a dress to wear.

  I set the bread on the next rise and then filled a pot of water to cook the pasta for the spaghetti salad. I decided on using multiple shaped pasta to make it fun: bow ties, penne, spirals, and shells, whatever I could find. I knew it would be limited because of not having certain fresh things like green onions, cukes, green pepper and cherry tomatoes, though I doubted anyone would notice that there were only sliced black olives, canned tomatoes, and rehydrated onions with the pasta.

  After I drained the cooked pasta, I drenched it with my remaining half bottle of Italian dressing and added the few extras. It would have to do.

  The rolls were formed and on the final rise, so I took a shower and started getting ready. Kathy and Bob arrived early so Kathy could help with any last minute things, and Bob kept a nervous Mark occupied.

  “Have you decided on a dress, Allexa?” Kathy asked, flipping through my closet.

  “I was thinking about this one.” I pulled a hanger out from the back of the half bath door. It was a soft sage green, with a long skirt, long sleeves, and
a deep V neckline. It was plain, but I thought it lovely and wearing it made me feel good.

  “Oh! That is very pretty, Allexa! I don’t think I’ve seen it before. When did you get it?”

  “Actually, it’s sort of new. I bought it last year because it just called to me. It was a size too small then, so it’s hung it the closet. Now that I’ve lost almost thirty pounds since November, it fits perfectly, even a bit loosely. I know it’s rather plain, but I love the color.”

  “I think it will be perfect,” Kathy said. “Can I pick out earrings for you?”

  I agreed. She selected two pairs for my double piercing; one simple gold chains and the other long and sparkling.

  “What about wedding rings, Allex?” she asked.

  “I hadn’t given it much thought,” I said, and a touch of panic hit me until a memory slid to the front of my thoughts. “I have an idea.” I opened a glass box on my dresser. “This box was specially made by a stained glass artist the year my mother died,” I explained to Kathy. “He inlaid dried Bleeding Heart flowers that were picked from the plant my father gave my mother for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.” I opened the box to reveal my parents’ wedding bands. “I know Mother’s ring fits me, perhaps Dad’s will fit Mark.”

  “What a lovely gesture,” Kathy said, taking the rings from me. “Don’t worry, I won’t lose them. I want to polish them up.” She left me to finish combing my hair.

  At three thirty, our guests started arriving. Amanda took over arranging things on the food table, while Kathy kept me in the greenhouse so Mark could shower and change clothes.

  “Keeping Mark and I apart is silly, Kathy! We’ve been living together for the last two weeks,” I said, pacing, and then sitting on the bench by the fish pond, the water gurgling happily from the full batteries. There has fortunately been enough sunlight that the solar panels have kept the batteries charged.

  “Tough!” she said. “Stay here. I have something for you I need to get from the car.” She left, leaving the door open. The breeze it brought in was welcomed and it helped to soothe my growing anxiety.

  When she returned, she had a bouquet of flowers! It was made up of a hodgepodge of baby’s breath, zinnia in bright yellow, wild ox-eyed daisies, blue forget-me-nots, and a single rose. The combination was stunning, and I almost cried over her thoughtfulness.

  At four o’clock sharp, she let me out of the greenhouse to greet my guests and my soon to be husband.

  “You look stunning,” Mark said as he took my hand and walked with me to where our friends and family waited with Pastor Carolyn.

  When we said our vows, Mark added some of his own. “And I promise to never, ever leave you. It’s until death do us part. Now that I’ve said that in front of everyone, you will have to believe me.”

  When Carolyn called for rings, Mark looked panic stricken.

  “Don’t worry, Mark, we got it covered, I hope yours fits,” I whispered to him. Jacob walked up to Carolyn and held out his hands. The newly polished gold rings sparkled in the sunlight.

  “Anything you would like to say about these rings, Allexa?” Carolyn asked.

  I turned to my new husband and said “These are my parents’ wedding rings. I think they would be very pleased that you and I are now going to wear them.” I slid my father’s ring onto Mark’s finger to find a perfect fit. He took the other ring from Jacob and placed it on my finger.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Pastor Carolyn announced proudly.

  “It was all lovely, though I hadn’t expected for us to make such a big deal over getting married,” I confessed to Mark as we accepted a glass of wine from Bob.

  “I think it was just enough, Allex,” Mark said, giving me yet another kiss. “Your family and friends wanted this, and who are we to deny them?”

  Right before we were ready to start our buffet feast, which included a wedding cake Kathy had made and decorated with fresh nasturtiums, a vehicle was heard coming down the road. The military Humvee came to a stop across from our group.

  Both the driver’s door and the passenger side opened at the same time. The driver stepped out, holding a rifle, while the passenger walked around the vehicle and came up to us.

  “Good afternoon, everyone, I’m Captain Andrews of the United States Army,” he introduced himself. “This looks like a celebration of some sort.”

  “It’s a wedding, Captain. Can we help you?” I said, noting something about him was familiar.

  “Congratulations to the happy couple,” he said. “I’ve come to Moose Creek to see if there is anyone who needs assistance in relocating to Marquette.”

  “I don’t think there is anyone left in Moose Creek, Captain. I believe any survivors have already moved to town,” Anna said.

  “What about everyone here?” he asked calmly.

  “We’re fine, Captain. We don’t require any help,” Bob said. “Are you going to force us to leave our homes?”

  Captain Andrews looked at each one, lingering on Emilee, and then said, “No. I’m not interested in stressing our already overloaded system.”

  During this brief conversation, Eric and Jason came from the house across the street, carrying a case of Eric’s latest brew. When they saw we had visitors, they quietly set the beer down and advanced slowly. Even limping, Eric was silent in his stealth.

  The driver of the Humvee had been standing a few feet from the truck, far enough for Eric and his brother to approach from either side. In one swift act, Jason held a knife to the young soldier’s throat while clamping his other hand over his mouth. During that same move, on the other side, Eric relieved the now prone young man of his M4 carbine rifle.

  With the rifle tucked under his right armpit, and a crutch under his left, Eric advanced silently until he was within range, and touched the barrel of the rifle to the Captain’s ribs. Captain Andrews froze.

  “Sargent Rush, I presume.” The captain turned his head slowly.

  “Sir,” Eric stated, not moving the rifle, and yet acknowledging the officer’s recognition.

  “I’m not here to make trouble, Sargent,” Captain Andrews said. “Can you lower that weapon?”

  “No sir, not yet. Mom, will you relieve the captain of his service revolver?”

  I could tell Eric was in a different mental zone. I strode forward and took the gun from his service holster and backed away, out of reach, and set the Beretta M9 on the table.

  “It appears as if you were right, none of you need my assistance,” Captain Andrews said, smiling. “If you’re wondering how I knew it was you, son, I recognized your daughter from your stay at Sawyer this past winter.”

  “Captain, are you going to force us to go to Marquette?” I asked.

  “No, ma’am, I’m not. My orders were to clear out Moose Creek. It’s obvious to me that you’re not in Moose Creek,” he replied with a friendly grin.

  “Okay. Then would you care to join us for dinner?”

  “That’s generous of you. Thank you, I think we will. May I turn around now, Sargent?” he asked. Eric stepped back, still holding the rifle level.

  When the captain saw his driver face down on the ground, he chuckled. “A green recruit. Can he get up now?”

  As the young man stood, he asked, “How did you get the drop on me so easily?”

  “Too much time spent in The Sandbox,” Eric replied.

  “Ma’am, you will get no trouble from us, I promise. Will you ask your son to lower that weapon? It doesn’t help the digestion having a high powered rifle aimed at you, especially when it’s in the hands of a trained sniper,” the captain said. “Sargent, after you arrived last February, I did some inquiries on your service record.” He looked at Eric’s crutch. “What happened to your leg?”

  Mark, who had been silent this entire time, now spoke up. “A wolf tried to include Eric in his dinner plans. Eric disagreed with the menu.”

  “His foot and calf were mangled pretty badly, but Mark put him back together,” I said. “W
e eliminated the threat - all of them,” I said as steely as I could and with as much implication as I could manage.

  “You’re a doctor?” The captain’s attention was now focused on Mark, who responded only by nodding. “We sure could use you in the city. Please consider joining us.”

  “I’m needed here, but thank you for the invitation,” Mark said coldly and politely.

  The captain had been eating from a plate put in front of him, even sipped from the cup of beer set beside him by a silent Amanda.

  “Captain Andrews, what happened to our two friends in Moose Creek that were forced to leave a few days ago?” I said accusingly.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that,” he said calmly, and took another sip from his still full cup. “I can tell you have a competent and well-rounded group here: military expertise, hunters, a minister, a doctor, and some excellent cooks,” he took another sip of beer. “A fine brew-master, too. If you decide you want to relocate, you would be more than welcomed. You have some highly desirable talents. We could really use you, but we won’t force you. If you decide to stay here, we will let you be.”

  This alarmed me for some reason.

  “Can we discuss this option among ourselves and get back to you? In say a week?”

  “Yes, I will need a week to pack,” Anna said. I looked at her sharply.

  “Same here,” Carolyn chimed in.

  He smiled. “I think that can be easily arranged.” He stood and moved away from the table. “Thank you very much for your hospitality, but we must be going. When you’re ready you can reach me by calling 911, dispatch will find me.”